


Home Again

by Debi_C



Series: Daniel's Office [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s06e22 Full Circle, Gen, Homecoming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debi_C/pseuds/Debi_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Homecoming, Daniel starts to find his place</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Again

I watch as the wormhole closes after Jonas Quinn and the representatives from Kelowna. He is gone, but before he left, we had spoken briefly about our comradeship, our adventure and his leaving to return to his planet. But now, I stand here alone in the Gateroom. No, not alone, there is someone in the shadows. 

It's the Colonel. I call him Jack. Apparently, I'm the only one who does. I wonder why. 

He smiles at me, a quirky grin. "Dinner's at seven." He says. "Don't be late." Then, he's gone, and I'm alone. 

I go back to my office...my office...it's larger than most, because of the books and artifacts I suppose. But, there's something wrong. It's too bright, and I know the light isn't good for the relics. It causes their ancient pigments to fade. I'll have to talk to...someone; I need to find out whom...and have the bulbs replaced as soon as possible. 

There's a television in the corner of the room. I will have it removed. I don't want it. It's only something else to distract me from thinking, from comprehending things that I need to understand. 

I do like the aquarium though. Its effect is calming and the little lives in it should continue. They swim and eat and live in innocence, unaware of the greater powers at work in the universe. 

The desk is cluttered, piled high with books, journals and papers. There is no order here, no rhyme to the reason, no method to the madness. Jonas is an intelligent man but I don't understand his thought processes. It's as if he learns things without understanding what he knows. I don't comprehend how he reaches a conclusion. There is no originality, only rote memory. I could not live like that. I want to understand the how and the why of the process, not just the end result of it. 

There is a tap on the door. I look up. It's Jack again. He peeks in from behind the door, then wanders in, glances around, and smiles at me in his gamin way. "Hi. How are you doin'?" 

"Fine, thank you. Do you need something?" I answer politely. 

"Nope, just checking on you." He studies me, tilting his head to the side. 

I look at him appraisingly. There's something in his eyes, some craving, as if expecting something of me. It bothers me that he's so seemingly dependent on my presence. Our eyes meet. After a moment, he drops his gaze. I want it back. "Jack?" 

"Yes." He raises his eyes again and meets my look, locking us together. 

"Jack," I ask him curiously. "who are we to each other?" 

He looks at me, wonderingly. "I told you," he replies patient with my confusion. "we're best friends. We've known each other for years." He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. I have a sudden vision of those hands. In my mind's eye I can see them, long strong slender fingers, the little one on his left hand slightly crooked, and on the knuckles of the right hand are scars. I want his hands to touch me for some reason. I can feel his grip on my arms, but there is no fear. On the contrary, they impart a feeling of safety that is warm and comfortable. I have a feeling of rightness about this. It is as it should be. 

Concerned, possibly due to my silence, he moves closer. The dark brown eyes search mine, an eyebrow arches in curiosity. "Danny, is something wrong?" 

I shake my head. "No, Jack. I'm fine." The man stops, mere inches from me. I can smell him, a pleasant odor of aftershave, soap and his natural scent. 

As if of it's own volition, my right hand reaches out until my fingertips rest lightly on his chest. Through his black t shirt, I can feel the rise and fall of his breath, the silent thrum of the blood rushing through his body, and the rhythmic beat of his heart. I concentrate on these sensations that I perceive. 

I see Jack look down at my touch for a moment. Then, slowly, he raises his hand to mine, palm outward. He gently slides his fingers through mine, intertwining them, mingling our sensory perceptions. He continues until our fingers interlock completely, our palms are clasped together and we hold each other's hand in a firm grip. 

Then, very cautiously, he brings his other hand up to my shoulder. It's as if he fears that I will bolt from the contact. He slides it gently to the back of my neck, ruffling the short sensitive hairs on the nape, stroking, and tickling the ends of the nerves. Delicately, as if petting a wild bird, he begins to massage my tense muscles and tendons. My body reacts automatically by producing tingling goose bumps. It is a pleasurable sensation and I unconsciously relax into his touch. 

After a short moment, he applies more pressure and I lean into him, helpless before his power. Finally, he slides his arm down across my shoulders. and pulls me into a warm hug. My other arm slips softly around his waist. His lips are close to my ear and his breath caresses my skin. "Welcome back, Daniel. I've missed you." 

I close my eyes and breath deeply, absorbing his feel, his scent, his voice and his words. If my mind still questions, my body has no doubts. 

I am home.


End file.
